Snow on the Metallicar
by Apollaskywalker
Summary: It's snowing outside, how does Dean react to there being snow on his beloved car? Rated T just because I don't know what to rate it.


Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, any of its characters (although, Kripke, Christmas is coming up and I wouldn't mind a gift.) Not mine. *sigh* too bad, there are some myths I'd like to see them do. And I'd help them with their Latin (Kripke! Make them pronounce it correctly! AHH!)

Author's note: Ok, so I wrote this because there is a ton of snow outside during the winter where I live and I'm so sick of seeing the Metallicar without any snow. Plus, I'd like to be able to come in after shoveling my driveway out to hot chocolate and Dean taking care of his baby like a good autophile would and I haven't found ANY of Dean and the Metallicar facing snow. So I wrote it, first fan fic posted in a long time... And as for my beta, who needs one when I have my mom? "Here, mom! Read this story I wrote!" *gets it back later with pencil marks all over it* Oh, and if you know of any stories with Dean and the Metallicar and snow please tell me. Gen only please. I don't know why this seems to be told mainly through Sam's POV, I'm much more of a Dean!girl. Oh well, onto the fic, it's not like you guys actually read these notes anyway. :)

Sam clicked on a site he'd bookmarked on the laptop. The weather channel sounded like a stupid thing for a hunter to have but sometimes they needed to check weather patterns for omens, or in this case, snow showers.

It was coming down pretty thick and wasn't melting at all. In fact they were under a winter storm advisory, which wasn't a good thing since they had to leave the next morning for a job. And Dean wasn't happy because there was _snow_ _landing_ on his _baby_. And Dean wanted to get a tarp to cover her in, but they didn't have one for her. Sam wanted to hit himself for thinking of the car as female. But it was a habit Dean had gotten him into. While he had been at Stanford, he'd been able to think of her as Dean's car, the Impala, but never as a girl. Now she was like a member of the family again.

Sometimes Dean's attachment to imanimate objects messed with Sam's head. The _car_, there that was better, had no emotions, didn't care that there was snow landing on her – oh, crap there it was again.

"Dean," Sam said as Dean went over to look out the window _again_. "What's the deal? It's a storm warning, we'll just have to wait until it stops."

"Yeah but…the snow…could damage something."

Oh good Lord, cars survived in Minnesota, Michigan, and the middle of Siberia with snow! This car took out demons, how would snow hurt her? It. How would snow hurt it?

Sam shut the laptop and turned on the TV. As he channel surfed Dean went outside and brought in some things from the trunk: a tube of lock de-icer, road salt and not regular salt, a mini fold out shovel, a brush/scraper, and thick gloves.

Sam settled on Jeopardy! and asked, "What's that for?"

"Tomorrow morning," Dean replied, putting the equipment near the door. "Which task do you want?"

What task? What, was he crazy? It was Dean's car! He should take care of it! "I'll shovel." He said in resignation. "Why do you have a snow shovel anyway?" Most of the shoveling they had to do dealt with digging six feet under and in dirt.

"Dude," Dean glared at him as if Sam was missing something really obvious, "we travel _everywhere_. Better to be prepared."

Sam held his hands up in acknowledgment. Dean was right.

"I added more antifreeze to her," Dean continued, "so we should be good to go…"

Dean probably loved the car more than he loved Sam, probably more than he loved dad. How many times did he have to hear about the car from Dean?

Dean turned his attention to the game and muttered, "Fords suck."

Sam turned back, saw the clue and looked back at his brother. "What?"

One of the players rang in, "What is Ford?"

"Correct."

Sam got it. Whereas Sam knew a lot of culture, literature, and stuff like that, Dean tended to focus more on mathematics, science, cars, and music. They made up for what the other missed. "Hey, there's a section on classic music, wanna compete for the most points?"

"Sure," Dean went over and grabbed the motel stationery. He tore off a few pages and handed them to Sam along with a pen and he picked out his own pen. They sat down and watched the game while the snow fell on the car.

The next morning Dean was out there with his leather jacket zipped up, gloves on, brushing off his car. Vigorous strokes cleared a lot of the snow off but smaller, slower strokes brushed off the remnants. Where Sam would have just shoved it off, Dean was acting like an OCD child. If he started picking up the individual flakes, Sam was going to take the shovel and smack it into his brother's head.

Although Dean had been right about the shovel, the roads had been cleared but they were sort of boxed in because the plows had pushed the snow along their side, leaving enough of a rocky pile that it had to be cleared out. Not because the Impala couldn't get over it but because Dean refused to let that snow _ruin_ the tires.

Dean checked the locks and applied the de-icer, opening his door. He slid inside, started the car and went in to grab their stuff. "You finished, Sammy?" he called out, as he dropped their things in prior to going back in for a sweep of the hotel. Better make sure they hadn't forgotten anything.

"Yeah," Sam put the shovel away and slammed the trunk closed.

The car was still cold and there was still snow stuck to her body but Sam had to admit there was less snow than if he had brushed it off himself.

Dean and his car…

See that little button that says review? Pretty please? Just...no flames, they hurt.


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